Temptation
by Precious93
Summary: Natasha sings. Clint loves her dress. This is a horrible summary...


_A/N: Warning: This is not what you will expect and some of you may be disappointed. I will apologize ahead of time and hope that you will enjoy what is here. _

_Reviews are much loved!_

**Temptation**

Before she takes the stage, Natasha checks her comm-link.

"Hawk, you ready?" she speaks low enough that only Clint, on the other end of the device, can hear her.

"Target is front and center," he replies.

"Company?" she asks, meaning are there any other players, such as guards. Of course Natasha knows every details about it already. There will be guards throughout the lounge. The target, a man named James Moriarti, is a weapons dealer that needs to be taken out. At the target's table will be him and two other men. The only reason she is asking is to hear Clint's voice. It keeps her calm as she prepares for her song.

"Nervous Widow?" he asks, humor lacing his words. He knows she just needs his voice and not the mission details.

She rolls her eyes.

"I know when you're rolling your eyes, Nat." he chuckles.

She rolls her eyes again and murmurs, "that may be because we've been partners for _years_. And don't call me Nat. Not hear." she adds as an afterthought.

"Fine, _Widow_." he adds emphasis to reassure her that he will behave.

"Fine," she mutters. Three minutes till showtime.

"Hey, relax. It's just another day at the office. You know, if we actually worked in an office. Which we don't. Unless you count the times we've gone under cover in offices? Which I don't." He rambles a bit.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one who has to sing in front of an entire club and seduce a mark in the process. You get to sit there, sipping your drink and watch me make a fool of myself." I practically hiss.

"You won't make a fool of yourself. You have an amazing voice. It smooth and sexy and beautiful. And you are the most talented seductress in the world. We'll get this guy. Please, relax." Clint soothes her nerves with his words, wishing he could just wrap her in his arms and save her from having to do this. But this is their world, their job, and it's what needs to be done.

"Clint.." she sighs.

"It's _Hawkeye_, remember?" he teases, she smiles.

"Thank you, Clint." She says.

"Anytime, Nat."

Show time.

"Good luck, Nat." She hears Clint whisper in her ear as she glides out onto stage.

She is wearing a floor-length, red satin dress. It's strapless and backless and has a slit all the way up to her mid-thigh. Clint calls it the "Jessica Rabbit" dress. Natasha has to agree that with her red hair flowing down her back and the black, elbow-length gloves she is wearing, she feels like Jessica Rabbit.

Natasha sees Clint sitting a few tables away from Moriarti's table, which is dead center of the room.

"Beautiful," is the only word Clint says, but it's enough to give Natasha enough confidence to sing this song.

She smiles at the audience, not giving a reaction to indicate that she has heard him, but he knows she has.

Natasha steps up to the microphone, takes it off the stand and turns her back to the audience. She nods at the band and the music begins.

"_Rusted bandy in a diamond glass, everything is made from dream. Time is made from honey. Slow and sweet, only the fools know what it means._"

She slowly turns as she sings and faces the audience. Her eyes find Clint and hold his eyes briefly. Then her gaze skates over to the other patrons and finally land on Moriarti. She smiles seductively at him.

"_Temptation, temptation, temptation, I can't resist._"

She slowly makes her way down the steps and around the lounge. Pausing here and there with a quick move of the hips or shoulder.

"_Oui, je sais. Qu'il est fait de fumée. Oui, je me suis paumée. Il sait que je suis fauché Mais à moi de jouer, oui. Tentation, Tentation, Tentation, Je peux pas résister._"

She spends an extra moment near their mark then makes her way back to the stage.

Clint is watching her the entire time. She is absolutely gorgeous. Her voice is sexy and alluring, surely the target will do whatever she wants. He will fall into her web as have all the others. She isn't the Black Widow for nothing.

Clint has no doubt in his mind that she can finish the job. So he focuses a little more on what she is doing. She of course is singing, but she is also dancing a little. Putting on a show for the audience. Every once in a while she looks over at him and he wonders if she is the Black Widow dancing to seduce her prey, or Natasha dancing for him. Either way he loves her for it. She is wearing her Jessica Rabbit dress and black gloves, making him want her even more. Later, he tells himself. Right now there is a mission to finish.

At the end of her song, everyone applauds. Some people give her a standing ovation, including James Moriarti. Perfect.

Later, after the band finishes their set, and the evening is winding down, Natasha makes her way through the audience, accepting praise as she goes. She heads towards the bar for a drink, purposefully walking past Moriarti.

He has been watching her since she stepped out form backstage and he approaches her at the bar.

"My dear, you have such a lovely voice, and the beauty to match," he says in a fake Italian accent.

"Thank you very much," Natasha replies, batting her eyelashes.

"What do you say to going for a walk? It is a beautiful. To spend it with such a beautiful woman would be an honor."

Wow this guy moves fast, Clint thought. But it's what they need and Natasha knows, so she accepts his offer.

Moriarti bids goodbye to his companions and exits the bar with Natasha draped on his arm. They are followed by Moriarti's three body guards.

Clint follows shortly after.

"Right behind you, Widow." He murmurs. She coughs slightly as a response.

"Shall we walk through the park, my dear?" Moriarti asks.

"I would love to," Natasha purrs.

In the park, it is easy for Clint to hide among the shadows of the night. When Moriarti and Natasha stop at a bench, they sit and talk for a while.

Clint climbs a tree, his bow in hand. Taking out Moriarti will be easy, but the guards will be another issue. Nat will either have to fight them or run. Clint could pick them off one at a time since they were spread out a bit, but Moriarti would see what was happening and flee, taking Natasha with him.

"Widow, I have a clear shot, but there are still the guards. What's your move?" He knows it will be nearly impossible for her to answer so he waits.

Eventually she uses her conversation with Moriarti to give him some form of an answer.

"_Mr. Moriarti_, I would like to thank you for this wonderful walk. It is so beautiful out tonight. Perfect for the _first_ of the new season. I hope to enjoy many more like it," Natasha purrs.

"As do I, my dear." He whispers back.

"Like Hell," Clint murmurs as he takes aim then looses his arrow. It hits Moriarti in the chest and he drops like a bowling ball. His guards, momentarily confused, race over to their leader. Natasha is still acting though, pretending to be horrified and terrified. One guards takes her behind him so he can protect her. The other two look around wildly for the murderer, for Clint.

Except they don't know where to look or what to look for. Clint easily climbs down the trees and escapes into the shadows, never being seen. But instead of running out of the park to go to their rendezvous point, he stays to keep an eye on Natasha, in case she has trouble.

For the most part, the guards have no clue what happened. They escort Natasha back to the club then leave, making frantic calls to whoever. Their boss is dead and Nat is safe.

Clint heads to the rendezvous, a five-star restaurant, and Natasha is there sitting at a table in the same gown she had been wearing earlier. The only difference now is that Clint had changed into a suit.

He joins her at the table.

"Waiting for someone, _my dear_?" Clint uses Moriarti's endearment for her.

"Please, join me," she requests coyly, motioning to the seat across from her.

"That was way easier than I thought it would be," Clint states, thinking about the mission.

"Yes, it was. A little too easy for my taste, but fun to play the helpless damsel and _not_ have to ruin a perfectly good dress." she smirks. Usually when she wears an evening gown, it ends up in tatters and tears from fights.

"Which, incidentally, looks incredible on you," he winks. If she were the type, she would've blushed. But she isn't so she doesn't.

They order their food and don't really talk, but they don't need to. Each look, or touch, or twitch is more than enough to carry on a conversation.

When they are finished and have paid, they head back to their hotel. Coulson is waiting in their room for a debrief. Natasha sits down in an armchair and crosses her legs, the slit in her dress exposing her skin up to the top of her thigh. Clint's breath catches in his throat. Natasha smirks and Coulson rolls his eyes at the two.

When Coulson leaves, Natasha is still sitting in the chair, looking out the window, thinking.

Clint walks up behind her and places his hands on her shoulders, caressing her skin.

"I've been thinking about you in that dress, and out of that dress, all day," he whispers in her ear. His breath against her combined with those words, sends chills across her body.

"Is that so?" she tries to remain impassive.

"You have no idea."

"So what are you gonna do about?" Natasha raises an eyebrow.

Clint pulls her to her feet and leans in close to her. In her ear he whispers, "I think you know."

The end...

_A/N: I will leave the rest to your imaginations..._

_Sorry if it seems unfinished. I cannot write real smut to save my life. Though at some point in the future I hope to be able to add it to my stories. In my head I could picture this going further but I couldn't actually write it. Sorry if any of you were disappointed, that was not my intent. _

_Please review! I also would like ideas for any stories you want to see. PM or leave a comment!_


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